


Pieradise

by blueskiessunshine (rainydayrambling)



Series: Angel Cake Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angel Cake Verse, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:17:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydayrambling/pseuds/blueskiessunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean owns a bakery; Castiel is a painter fascinated by the idea of angels.  They find each other, thanks to coffee and cupcakes.<br/>***<br/>“Man, come on,” the baker said, gesturing to the display case.  “You don’t come into a bakery and order just coffee.”  He paused for a moment and took in Castiel’s appearance.  “Look,” he said, “if it’s the money, don’t worry about it.  First cupcake’s free.”  He smiled.</p>
<p>“No, sir – ”</p>
<p>“Call me Dean.”</p>
<p>“Dean.  It’s not the money, I just – I’m not overly fond of confections.”</p>
<p>Dean laughed – chuckled, really, and it shouldn’t have been endearing, but it was, somehow.  “You haven’t tried mine,” he said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pieradise

Under normal circumstances, Castiel would never have gone inside.  A name like “Pieradise” deserved nothing less than a firm stroll right past on the sidewalk.  But he could feel the soles of his boots scraping the pavement, and when he ran a hand over his face, he felt stubble prickling him.  He needed coffee, now – and he was intrigued by the pair of angel wings unfurling on the sign behind the tacky name of the bakery.

A bell chimed when Castiel pushed the door open.  The bakery was small, but otherwise not what he’d expected.  Given the name and the angel wings, he’d have thought that the inside would be all pink and frilly, with lace and crystals everywhere.

Instead, the inside had more of a vintage diner feel.  The woodwork was all painted in a distressed gray-blue, and the chairs all seemed to be repossessed red leather diner chairs.  There was even a bar with stools lining the back wall.

At the front of the shop, there was the standard bakery display case.  It was filled with an assortment of treats, ranging from elaborately frosted cupcakes to three-tier cakes and cakepops and full pies.  But aside from a sweeping glance, Castiel ignored the treats, searching for a menu.  He found one hanging above the counter.  “Thank God,” he said to himself.  Coffee – 99 cents.

But there was still a problem.  He was very much alone in the shop.  He found a bell on the counter and dinged it, but still, no one appeared.  He waited a few seconds before trying again.  Finally, he heard footsteps from somewhere behind the counter, where he imagined the kitchen must be.  “How can I help you?”

Castiel opened his mouth to order his coffee, but for a brief moment, he was struck dumb.  The person who had appeared behind the counter was a young man with soft green eyes and a smudge of flour on his cheek.  He wore a gray thermal with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.  He was gorgeous.

“How can I help you?” he asked again, this time with a grin that seemed to say he knew exactly why Castiel hadn’t answered his question.

“Oh – um, just a coffee please.”

The man behind the counter – the baker, Castiel supposed – raised his eyebrows.  “ _Just_ a coffee?” he said.

“Uh, yeah,” Castiel said, not sure if he was supposed to have changed his answer.

“Man, come on,” the baker said, gesturing to the display case.  “You don’t come into a bakery and order _just coffee_.”  He paused for a moment and took in Castiel’s appearance.  “Look,” he said, “if it’s the money, don’t worry about it.  First cupcake’s free.”  He smiled.

“No, sir – ”

“Call me Dean.”

“Dean.  It’s not the money, I just – I’m not overly fond of confections.”

Dean laughed – chuckled, really, and it shouldn’t have been endearing, but it was, somehow.  “You haven’t tried mine,” he said.

Castiel sighed.  “Fine,” he said.  But when he looked down at the display case, he felt overwhelmed.  He really didn’t eat many sweets.  Lately, it seemed that no matter what he ate, all he could taste was paint, the smell had so completely permeated everything around him.  “What’s your favorite?” he asked Dean.

“Well,” Dean said, clapping his hands together like baking was the most exciting topic of discussion in the world.  “The best to look at are the cakes – but the best to eat are definitely the pies.”

Castiel looked at the pies in the display case.  There were two – one peach and one cherry.

“But I wasn’t lying before,” Dean said.  “Your first cupcake really is free.”

“I suppose I’ll take a cupcake then,” Castiel conceded, glad to have an easy out.

“What kind?”

“You choose.”  Castiel looked up from where he’d been pulling a dollar bill from his wallet, only to see Dean grinning as he reached into the display case to pull out a cupcake topped with a mountain of blue frosting.

“It matches your eyes,” he said, handing the cupcake to Castiel.

“No it doesn’t,” Castiel said.  He took the cupcake and put his dollar on the counter.

“No,” Dean said, and forced a little huff of a laugh.  “I guess it doesn’t.  But it’s close.”

Castiel just looked at him, and after a moment Dean grabbed the dollar, stuffed it into his register, and turned around to get Castiel his cup of coffee.  Unsure of anything but the fact that Dean was strange, Castiel stood where he was, looking down at the cupcake in his hand.

A moment later, Dean put the coffee down on the counter.  Castiel considered walking out with it, but it would be hard to eat the cupcake while he walked, so he decided to sit at one of the tables even though he was beginning to feel awkward.

To make it worse, once he sat down, Dean asked, from behind the counter, “What’s your name?”

Castiel swallowed his first sip of coffee too quickly; it burned his throat.  “Castiel,” he said, wincing.

Dean made a face at the sound of his name, but didn’t say anything.  Castiel took a bite of the cupcake.  It was painfully sweet – inciting an ache in Castiel’s teeth – but once he got past that, he couldn’t deny that the cake was delicious.  It was soft, and the flavor was interesting, unique.  He noticed that Dean was watching him with rapt attention, so he said, “This is quite good.”

Dean’s entire face lit up at the praise.  “Yeah?”

Castiel nodded.  “What flavor is it?”

“Lavender,” Dean said.

It seemed that now that Dean had heard Castiel’s opinion, he no longer needed to watch him eat.  So for the next few minutes, Castiel ate his cupcake and drank his coffee while Dean puttered around with things behind the counter.  Once Castiel finished the cupcake, though, the silence felt heavy again.  He knew he could leave, now that he just had his coffee, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to – he had lots of work waiting for him back at his apartment, after all.

“What’s with the wings?” he asked.  Dean looked up at him.  “On the sign, I mean,” he clarified.  “The angel wings.”

“Oh,” Dean said.  “They’re for my mom.”

“Your mom?”

“She died when I was a kid.  We used to bake together, so when I got the place…”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said.  “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Dean smiled.  “Don’t worry about it, man.”

Castiel thought for a moment.  “So the name?”

“It’s like Heaven,” Dean said.  “You know – paradise, only with pie.”

“Right,” Castiel said, feeling the corner of his mouth turning up.  “You know, that’s – that’s actually kind of charming.”

Dean laughed.  “Thanks,” he said, “I guess.”

Castiel took his last sip of coffee and figured that it was time for him to be on his way.  He stood, gathered his cupcake wrapper and the paper coffee cup, and tossed them in the little trashcan in the corner.

“It was,” he said, searching for the words.  “It was nice to meet you, Dean.  Thank you for the cupcake.”

“No problem,” Dean said.

Castiel went to the door.  He had just pushed it open, hearing the bell chime, when Dean said, “You’ll come back sometime?”

Castiel looked back over his shoulder, catching those pretty green eyes with his accidentally.  “Well,” he said, “I do have to try the pie.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part of what is intended to be a series of stories set in what I'm calling the "Angel Cake Verse." It's my intention that these stories will be relatively stand-alone, and not necessarily told in sequence. I hope it was as sweet to read as it was to write!


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